


a first time for everything

by sevenfoxes



Category: Inception (2010), Looper (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-10
Updated: 2012-05-10
Packaged: 2017-11-05 02:42:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/401563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenfoxes/pseuds/sevenfoxes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are only a small number of rules for loopers.  Loopers live outside the boundaries of most social conventions, of the limitations that bind most people, but there are always rules to be followed.</p>
<p>One: you never let a target get away.</p>
<p>Two: you never leave witnesses.</p>
<p>Three: you never fuck your oracle.</p>
<p>Arthur has never been particularly good at following rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a first time for everything

**Author's Note:**

> I know exactly zero about the Looper plot other than what you can glean from the trailer, so all of the details are completely made up. Someone just prompted me for a Looper!AU featuring Ariadne & Arthur.

The timekeepers are called oracles. They are typically women, each handling a few loopers, carefully plotting out the coordinates from the future - the dates, times, and locations of targets being sent back. Despite the stability of the technology, the messaging that comes through the filter is often convoluted and difficult to translate. The power required to carry organic and inorganic material through time is staggering enough that it's only ever used to transport people. Coordinates that come through appear as images flashing through static.  
  
There are only a handful of truly talented oracles and loopers are notoriously territorial regarding them. A few oracles, if paid well enough, choose to work with only one looper. Arthur's is one of them.  
  
Arthur's oracle is named Ariadne, though she is known by the moniker _Architect_. No looper gives up the name of their oracle - even with other loopers - and codenames help disguise them to prevent any coordinate tampering or oracle hijacking.  
  
(Eames has spent the last year and a half trying to track down Arthur's oracle. Arthur wants to believe it's for his own use, but suspects it's more likely for Robert Fischer, who has begun collecting them.)  
  
Ariadne has been working with Arthur for three years. Arthur's been sleeping with her for two.

 

  
\--

 

  
(In retrospect, he should have realized something was wrong the second she had looked at him, told him that she'd message him the coordinates as soon as she had finished deciphering them.)  
  
 _You need to pull the trigger_ , she tells him, her eyes trained on the paper beneath her hands, lines of equations flowing out of her pen pressed to it.  
  
 _Have I ever not?_ Arthur asks snidely, snugging his gun back into his holster.  
  
Ariadne grimaces. She knows as well as he does that a missed target is more than just death for a looper - it's death for their oracle as well. It's why so few oracles work with only one looper; if one looper fails, another will close the loop to protect their oracle.  
  
He's been wondering for the past few months if she wants out. Ariadne's never been particularly comfortable with the end result of her work, with the death that she helps to deal, but employment since the great depression of 2040 has been slim pickings, nothing even close to providing the same income as her work with him.  
  
Arthur's not sure he'd let her leave.  
  
Arthur's pretty sure she knows that too.  
  
 _There's always a first time_ , she replies.

 

  
\--

 

  
There are only a small number of rules for loopers. Loopers live outside the boundaries of most social conventions, of the limitations that bind most people, but there are always rules to be followed.  
  
One: you never let a target get away.  
  
Two: you never leave witnesses.  
  
Three: you never fuck your oracle.  
  
Arthur has never been particularly good at following rules.

 

  
\--

 

  
She's normally so quiet. Arthur likes pushing at that when he takes her to bed, when he takes her wrists and pins them to his expensive sheets, uses his free hand to tease her until she growls, until she begs.  
  
Ariadne hates his life - hates the drugs and the guns, the death. She makes no qualms about it, doesn't try to hide her distaste for the reckless, casual violence of his life.  
  
But she still fucks him. She still lets him peel off her clothes and pry apart her legs.  
  
Arthur has never had permanence in his life. The money of his profession has allowed him a truly disposable life, a life free of attachments. Whatever this is, whatever she is becoming to him, it is leading to something that is beginning to frighten him, to upset the delicate balance of his indifference.  
  
In his bed, she is the dangerous one.

 

  
\--

 

  
The punch from his target puts him out long enough that when he wakes, it's almost dusk. The crickets are chirping so loudly that the noise sounds like an approaching tidal wave. His truck is, surprisingly, still at the end of the field, though his gun is gone. The hidden revolver beneath the passenger seat is gone too.  
  
The name of the target comes with the coordinates. Ariadne knew. It had been Arthur's own personal preference for her not to share this small piece of information with him. He's never wanted to know the names, never needed to know. Until now.  
  
Arthur doesn't hesitate. He knows where he'd go. He knows where his employers will be going.  
  
When he arrives at her apartment, he finds his target standing over Ariadne who is sitting in a chair in the middle of her living room. The revolver from beneath his passenger seat is in his hand.  
  
Arthur hadn't been sure in the field. But now... the way that the man is looking at Ariadne, the hand resting near the base of her neck. The way that Ariadne is looking at him. There is no doubt left in Arthur's mind.  
  
When Arthur makes himself known, slipping through her half-open door, the man's hand tightens on the gun.  
  
 _You won't shoot her_ , Arthur says knowingly, stepping toward them.  
  
 _No_ , Arthur replies. _I won't._


End file.
